


Soft As Chalk

by FakePlastikTrees



Category: Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-10
Updated: 2012-10-10
Packaged: 2017-11-16 00:55:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/533696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FakePlastikTrees/pseuds/FakePlastikTrees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miranda and Andy meet again. Things don't exactly go as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soft As Chalk

Miranda likes that Andy’s aged a few years. She seems more assertive and more aware of her sensuality. She has adopted her own sense of fashion, which Miranda likes to take some credit for.

 

She watches her for a great while from afar before the young woman even spots her. 

 

Her hair is long and layered, her make up is minimal, accenting of her eyes with a tasteful choice of mascara and a thin line of eyeliner that makes those already wide eyes seem wider still. Her cheeks are a very soft blush that could easily just be the girl’s natural gift and her lips are a deep coral red. She looks absolutely confident. And beautiful.

 

Her dress is vintage. A pine green and cream floral print. Length, mid thigh, sleeves short and a high round neckline.

 

Jewelry isn’t very extravagant. So far, Miranda has spotted only a thin diamond bracelet on the left wrist and a pair of matching diamond studs on the ears.  The shoes, pine green Luce cutout pumps. She’s impressed. And suddenly thrilled to see Andy pick up her right leg to discreetly rotate her ankle. Miranda smiles. Just as the man Andy has been chatting amiably with leaves, Miranda strides through the crowd, intently making her way towards the only woman that’s ever walked out on her.

 

It’s sunny and a perfect seventy-four degrees outside. The crowd isn’t very boring, in fact Andy has had the pleasure of speaking with a few diplomats and one or two Nobel Prize winners. She’s had three Mimosas and she’s beginning to forget how much she dreaded coming to this thing alone. All in all, it didn’t feel so much like work and she was enjoying her Saturday morning. Which is why she did not see Miranda coming until she heard her name called behind her. 

 

“Hello, Andrea.” 

 

Choking on the champagne and orange juice mixture currently in her mouth, Andy coughed and looked over her shoulder to be graced with the icy cold blue stare of Miranda Priestley. 

 

“Hi, Miranda.”

 

*****************************

 

  They get a room within the hour. It’s difficult to concentrate on small talk and pretending they haven’t been keeping tabs on each other all these years. 

 

It’s also difficult to talk to Miranda when the yellow De La Renta knee length dress Miranda is wearing hugs every single curve of her body so perfectly--and not while those impossibly high heels make her calves flex in the most hypnotizing way. It was a single movement that did it. Miranda had turned around, slowly, when someone called her name and Miranda saw the black zipper that went shamelessly from neckline to hem. The slope of Miranda’s spine and the curve of her ass--it reminded Andy of her only regret for leaving Runway without a moment’s notice. 

 

“Let’s go,” She’d said into Miranda’s ears and much to Andy’s relief, Miranda politely excused herself and followed without argument. 

 

Andy doesn’t think she will ever be able to explain the utter and sheer exuberance she experienced the moment she reached out her hand and Miranda took it before they crossed the street towards the hotel that would soon hide their biggest secret. It was as if the joining of their hands pressed some sort of invisible fast forward button and Andy fed off of the immediate rush.

 

They kissed in the elevator. They moved gradually from one wall to the other. Andy kissed Miranda gently at first, but Miranda’s hand was deliberate as it slid along the younger woman’s side and gently was quickly forgotten. 

 

Miranda didn’t care much for gentle or easy. She knew very well that Andy could take whatever she felt like throwing at her, and throw she did. She took as well. Took every inch of that alabaster skin she could get her mouth on. She feasted on the girl’s neck and greedily groped her breasts--those full breasts she’d spend so many subconscious moments wondering about. 

 

Andy seemed to have been rendered helpless--perhaps by the surprisingly selfish way Miranda grabbed at her. But Andy didn’t give it much thought. She simply melted against the elevator wall and allowed the ding of every passing floor linger in the background as she surrendered to Miranda’s relentless touch. 

 

She sighed and felt her body being pulled as Miranda led her by the hand out of the elevator and towards their recently acquired room. 

 

Miranda was quiet, but she sighed her pleasure and Andy spent the better part of fifteen minutes simply kissing the woman senseless until she had her panting beneath her on the kind sized bed. For moment, Andy lost her thought process and was quickly flipped onto her back. Miranda stride her on all fours was the sexiest thing Andy had ever seen and she groaned as she closed her eyes and  Miranda kissed her breasts over the fabric of her dress, her back arching and the most satisfyingly aesthetic way. Her mouth was hot as it followed an unseen trail down Andy’s abdomen, her silver hair fanned out against the glamorous floral print.

 

Once Miranda’s hands slipped under the skirt of Andy’s dress, however, the brunette’s eyes shot open and she sat up abruptly, announcing quickly before Miranda could protest, “I’m on my period!” 

 

Miranda seemed absolutely furious. “Are you joking, Andrea?” 

 

Andy frowned deeply and shook her head, hating herself immediately as she stared at Miranda, on her knees, hair mussed and dressed hiked up to mid thigh. “God, I really wish I was, Miranda. Believe me.”

 

“This was your idea.”

 

“I know, I know. Would you believe me if I said I--forgot?” 

 

“No.” Miranda said quickly, her expression not bothering to hide even a fraction of distaste for Andy’s carelessness as she  sat back and pulled her legs out from under her to sit at the edge of the bed. 

 

“To be fair, your dress is really distracting. It’s not really my fault.” 

 

“It’s sort of an important issue to sidestep don’t you think?” Miranda asked sardonically, that dry, superior, snobbish tone perfected as always. Just like Andy remembered. 

 

Andy laughed. Miranda glared and Andy laughed harder. 

 

Miranda rolled her eyes and started to get up, only to be pulled back down and in for kissed that silenced whatever singeing insult her mind was cooking up. But it was the kiss on the cheek that followed that made Miranda really feel speechless. Andy stared back with a smile, pulling her hands shyly back onto her lap as her eyes looked at Miranda with all the adoration the older woman had not allowed herself to feel in a very long time. Because when all people have for you is fabricated adoration, one learns to block it all away and Miranda was quick to label it all superficial. 

 

But this wasn’t. 

 

This was the most honest she’d ever felt. Because of the honesty pouring out of Andrea Sachs and her brown eyes. 

 

“What do you suggest we do?” Miranda asked. 

 

Andy’s smile broadened and she said. “Do you want to play a game?”

 

“Not especially, no.”

 

“Well--” Andy said as she coot closer, cautiously, keeping a close eye on Miranda’s reaction before she thought it safe to take the older woman’s hand in hers, “--I’d like you to stay. I’d like to talk to you, if that’s okay.” 

 

Miranda hesitated a moment and finally nodded her head once. “Fine.” 

 

“Fine,” Andy echoed

 

 

END     

 


End file.
